


The Night His Sky Fell Down

by Eternal Scribe (Shadowcat)



Category: Roswell (TV)
Genre: F/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:32:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4601739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcat/pseuds/Eternal%20Scribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing she had done before your sky fell down was to start to walk across the street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night His Sky Fell Down

When it happens, you feel part of yourself shattering, sure you would never be able to heal from what had just occurred. She wasn’t doing anything wrong or unsafe. In fact, none of you were doing anything wrong. You were all coming out of the motel that you had all stayed in for the night, and were now leaving it to get some real food. It was the first time in three days that you were going to eat something besides fast food or gas station staples and you were all looking forward to it.

She was looking forward to it.

The only thing she had done before your sky fell down was to start to walk across the street. That was all. She was even in the crosswalk and being careful to obey that law. She was in the center of the crosswalk when the car blew through the stop sign.

\-- _Later, Kyle would say that the drive had to have been drunk because he didn’t even slow down for the stop sign and had been driving erratically when he fled the scene. To you, it doesn’t matter._ –

The car hits her with enough force to throw her up into the air. You’re already running, screaming her name as she falls back to the ground like a broken angel.

Your broken angel

“Maria!”

Your screams are only increasing in pitch as you finally get to her side. There is so much blood that her light hair is the color of blood, now. Her eyes are open, looking for you, but she doesn’t seem to see you since she keeps using up her valuable oxygen to whisper and call your name.

“Michael…”

“Don’t talk don’t talk don’t talk.”

_Don’t leave me._

You want her to talk so that you know she is still with you, but you also want her to stay silent, conserving her air and her energy.

Where is Max? Where is he? Why isn’t he here with you right now when the other part of your soul is quickly bleeding out on some dark street in some stupid town?

“I love you…”

You don’t want her saying those words right now because it sounds too much like goodbye. You won’t let it be goodbye and you won’t let her be convinced that it is.

Because she is convinced. Her eyes are full of so much pain and the color is already starting to fade and you are terrified. With everything that the two of you have been through, you won’t let a random accident with some random drunk asshole be what ends the life the two of you have chosen with each other. You can’t lose her… your Maria… like this.

Or ever.

The very idea is destroying you.

You have always been reckless with your own life at times, but you’ve never been reckless with hers. There have been times that you go overboard to protect her life so why couldn’t you have protected her this time.

She’s holding your hand and both of you are crying and you’re doing your best to keep her anchored by your love to keep her in this life long enough for her to be saved. She’s begging you not to let her go even as her voice is getting weaker by the second.

Finally, finally, Max is there with the others and he is kneeling in the bloody street across the body of the girl that became your moon. You want to ask him questions, demand that he not let her die, but all you can do is murmur soft reassurances to the girl in your arms who is fighting for her life.

Max puts his hands over the worst of the bleeding wounds -- her beautiful head -- and you can see a soft silver light emitting from them as Max pours his healing energy into Maria; finding the wounds and torn organs, coaxing them to move back in place and knit themselves back together.

The air around the three of you is disturbed as Liz -- of course Liz -- kneels down at Maria’s head, the three of you forming a triangle. To your amazement - ( _why are you amazed, this is her best friend and sister_ ) - Liz places a hand on Maria’s shoulder and more healing energy pours into her.

They both stop, leaning against each other in exhaustion and as much as you want to make sure they are all right, you cannot bear to take your attention from Maria.

“Michael, let’s get her back to the motel room.”

The motel: warm and clean. Yes, you want to get Maria back to the motel where there is light and warmth and where she won’t be in the dirty street any longer. She doesn’t belong here.

You gently lift her the rest of the way into your arms before you get to your feet. You almost lose your footing from your legs going numb, but you correct quickly. You’re not going to drop her. Not now and not ever.

In the room, Isabel tries to take her out of your arms, but you refuse to let her go. You compromise by laying her down on one of the beds so that your sister can help you remove the bloody clothes and get her as cleaned up as you can.

You don’t care what she wears, but you want to get all of the blood off of her before it makes you sick.

You’re lying on the bed with her, curled gently but still protectively around her. This time when she speaks your name, there is an absence of fear and you know that you can breathe a little easier.

She’s alive. She loves you.

You intend to make both of those things stay true.


End file.
